We're the Same, You and Me

Hi daddy. Now that you're gone, I think I'll just send messages into the void and hope you can hear them. Or maybe I don't. I'm not sure. I'd like to think that since you're disembodied, you're free from the confines of this life and from self. I wouldn't want to bring you back just for me.

Oh, how I envy you. It isn't that I want to die, don't get me wrong. I haven't yet begun to really live. I'm still digging my way out of the hole I dug for myself and jumped into a long time ago. You know. You were there; it was your hole, too.

Anyway, I think a lot about being in the mountains. When I'm there, I have this understanding of what heaven is like. It's almost like being disembodied.

It takes so much energy to be a sentient being. So much struggle, so much turmoil, so many jealousies, loves, feelings of sadness and inadequacy. Every day, as a thinking entity, we form opinions and send out connective messages all around us. And we process the ones we get back. All this takes so much time--produces so many emotions. All these make us who we are. We are just a collection of our experiences, in a way. Our minds, especially minds like ours, tend to eat away at themselves by feeding on regret. All these regrets remain fresh like open wounds, and remain as such for years.

Is it important that you loved the Pastoral and Sci-Fi? That you loved Dune? That you loved my mother and it broke your heart when she left you? That you loved everything new and electronic? That you loved salads with Italian dressing? That you were always in a depressed hole, waiting for someone to save you? Whenever someone tried, you got the feeling they cared about you. All these things made you who you were. So many things made you miserable for such a long time--crying out to be heard. I loved you daddy, and I was always ready to listen.

I know that you left this life feeling like you didn't accomplish what you were capable of. But that's okay.

I know what it's like to have all those feelings. When I'm in the mountains, it's like there is no self. It's the closest thing I've ever experienced to what you must be feeling now. Everything becomes part of that primary ousia that everything has in common. It isn't matter--it's more matter's spiritual counterpart. It seems to me that when we die, our essence escapes like a breath to become one with everything good in the universe--this ousia, or God. In that moment, all the struggles and turmoil associated with corporeality are simply left behind with what belongs to this earth, and what will return to dust.

Daddy I know this life for you was mostly misery. I'm glad you're at peace now. Don't come back for me, I'll be fine. I love you.